Glow Curve, "Invisible History"

A well-rounded follow-up that rewards deep listens with sharp flashes of genius

Back in 2015, I went to see the Chinese rock band Glow Curve at a small venue near Beijing’s east 2nd Ring Road. They were one of my favorite groups I’d discovered during my time in China, and they were playing as part of a multi-band billing near my apartment. I showed up just as they were starting their set and noticed that, strangely, I didn’t recognize any of the songs they were playing. Assuming they were trying out some new material, I watched the set with an open mind but ultimately wasn’t too impressed. They were ok.

Then the next band took the stage, and the vibe quickly stepped up. I didn’t recognize the songs they opened with either, but the hooks were sharper, the musicianship a level above the previous act. By the second song, I was paying attention. By the third song, I was sold. And on the fourth song, the band played something I’d heard before, and I realized I’d gotten the set order wrong. The first band I’d seen wasn’t Glow Curve; this was.

When a band is able to anonymously win you over twice, you know you’ve found something special. So when Glow Curve (finally) released their sophomore album four years after that concert (and a full six years after their debut), I was ready for my expectations to be blown. They were, but in that subtle way in which great bands are able to exceed expectations by defying them. Invisible History (whose Mandarin name translates more closely to “Star in the Wilderness”) pivots away from the angular post-rock of Dedicate to Mind into softer indie territory, a new approach for Glow Curve but one they execute as adeptly as any album since Transatlanticism.

One part of this shift is a stronger focus on vocals, which add so much to Invisible History that you realize Dedicate to Mind was holding out. Lead singer Xue Ran’s baritone channels Matt Berninger channeling Johnny Cash, lifting the album’s title track to the status of an indie rock classic. The album frequently mediates these types of encounters with brilliance: the krautrock-ish grooves on “金钱不眠 (Money Doesn’t Sleep)”; the Oh Wonder-style harmonies and brass flourishes on “灰烬霓虹 (Ash Rainbow)”; the whispered vocals on the third verse of “荒野星”; the soaring guitars that close out “无限引 (Unlimited Engine)” so beautifully that the eight-minute song starts to seem too short.

These tracks sound great in isolation but even better when wrapped up in an album that ties them into a cohesive whole. Invisible History ascends to this level of vision, finishing with a sort of loudspeaker-style monologue that feels like a cross between a train announcement and a political rally. I can’t translate these lyrics but gather they follow an extended reflection on technology and the surreal conditions of modern life, tidily ending that journey with the line “Thank you for being invented and for being destroyed” before a spazzed-out sax solo falls in to break the song apart.

Bonus Pick: For more masterfully crafted 2010s-era alt rock, check out Lebanon’s Mashrou’ Leila.

…and as an added bonus: Have a listen to this stellar new album from the Colombian avant-jazz supergroup Los Pirañas, which I had the opportunity to cover for Bandcamp.

Correction: When I initially wrote this post, my understanding was incorrect. That lyric actually comes in at the end of Invisible History’s second track.